


The Words.

by Luminary_Of_The_Stars



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalised Homophobia (referenced), POV First Person, Suicide, im so sorry holy fuck, it hurts, painful, why did i do this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 05:18:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14742683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luminary_Of_The_Stars/pseuds/Luminary_Of_The_Stars
Summary: Soon the words come flying out of my mouth and I’m not sure why, but they hurt.





	The Words.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I've been gone for such a long time! I'll definitely be updating my other fics but in the meantime take this uhh- hella angsty fic! I started writing this one night when I was in a particularly bad state, but I decided I'd finish it for you guys because who doesn't love angst!! It's shorter than what I originally intended but I think it brings the point across. . .

Soon the words come flying out of my mouth and I’m not sure why, but they hurt.

These words have always been used against me, riling me up and trying to get me to break, but they never do. They’ve become a defence mechanism, protecting my insecurities like a guard dog does its owner, protecting me from the things I’m afraid of.

It’s not surprising that these words hurt others, and I want them to stop, but I can’t for the life of me try to reason with the demon inside of me causing them, I find sometimes that the biggest threat to your life is yourself.

I’m not surprised when I’m told I’m a hypocrite, or that the way I word things when I’m angry is wrong, but all the chattering crowd saying them have a hard time noticing that I have no way to stop it, I never have, and never will. It’s unlike me to be so pessimistic, but honestly at this point, the hero of the story is long gone, all that’s left is his corpse and the pungent odour of unachieved dreams. Oh, how the stars shine bright for the hero’s loss, but do not care for what impact he left, its simply washed over and all the things that are left are the bad, the awful, the explicit, the hurtful.

My stories far finished by now, for there isn’t anyone left who wants to talk to a broken sailor. No one who wants to talk to someone defined as toxic by his masculinity, someone who’s perceived as having a phobia to one of the closest things to my heart, because the words come flying out of my mouth with no reason why.

My parents never had a problem with the words, they’d use them toward me often. They’d become so engraved into me that I had no way to sand them off. My heart’s a rough one, scars lining the surface. Each one carved into me by my actions I have no way to prevent, for the words come flying out of my mouth with no reason why. I’m terrified of them and all I want them to do is stop.

The very few people in my life wouldn’t miss me, I’m sure of it. Amidst the jokes and the positivity there’s always poison. Poison in the drink of friendship and trust, trust is another thing I find impossible to stop myself from doing. So much trust toward everyone I meet, trying my best to raise them up while I descend further and further down, away from the stars I hold so dear to me.

You might find my story dark and depressing, something an edgy teen would come up with to show how ‘cool’ they were. And I find that people have the same view on me, for however many layers of robust clothing and brightly coloured hair show the opposite, if I share my troubles, weakness is what ensues. And by gods if I die, I sure as hell am going to show some goddamn strength.

It’s a scary thing, being the broken man, where the words come flying out of your mouth without a reason why, and I find it’s best to reflect on it once and a while, maybe someone later down the line might remember me and wish to find out why I’d met such a terrible fate.

But to be honest, I wouldn’t.

“Hey,” Shuuichi’s at the door again, trying to come in and talk to me about something or rather, an assessment on physics perhaps? He never truly understood that shit, although being my boyfriend certainly helped him.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be there in a sec Saishuu, just lemme finish typing this up.”

What I really meant to say was bandaging my wrist, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Yeah Sai? Whaddaya want?”

Another lie, I’m the only one he knows, and if he knew others he probably would like them more.

“Oh, uhh, can we t-talk?”

“Yeah sure, Come in!” I really wish he didn’t- “Make ya’ self at home! Maybe it will be someday soon~”

Flirting is such an easy way to hide someone’s pain, and although how much of a great detective Shuuichi is, even he couldn’t figure that one out. You need to experience it to understand. It’s like being in Zero-G, something I’m never going to experience again, which in a way is kinda sad, but of course I’ve gotta show everyone else strength in the final meetings we have together. I want to be remembered as something strong.

Something, that’s what I am. Not a person.

Shuuichi sits down on the couch and pats the other cushion, an action that requests me to sit down.

Plonking myself down on the couch, Shuuichi’s face becomes unreadable.

“I- learnt about something today.”

What did you learn?

“Yeah? What was it?”

“Well I uhh-“

What is it?

“It’s-“

“WHAT THE FUCK IS IT?”

Shuuichi jumps at my question, and looks away like he’s about to cry.

“Forget it.”

He stands up and walks out of the room. He looks at me as he closes the door, his eyes look disappointed somewhat, and it guilt trips me.

This whole charade of emotion fucks up everything around me, and although the people closest can deal with how snappy I can be to a point, that doesn’t mean there’s a point where they can’t. I don’t even know if he figured out the problems I’m having or not, but I can’t worry him, it’s better just to stay silent and keep up this mask, even if it’s cracking and you can see the skin underneath.

Suddenly I realise what I should do.

\-----------

It’s early in the morning and Shuuichi hasn’t come back. It’s understandable, and in a way I thank him for it. It makes what is going to happen a lot easier on my conscience, and that’s surprising because every other part of my life I’ve made harder for myself.

And I mean to write a note but maybe that’s just me making sure in some way it is harder.

My hands are shaking but I don’t notice it as neither do I notice the slight knock on the door. The adrenaline helps me focus, and I smile because maybe for once the people around me can be happy.

Heh, sorry Saishuu. Looks like this star’s fizzled out, but that’s fine. There are brighter and bigger stars in the sky than me. So go find them!

Click.

And that was supposed to stop the words flying out of my mouth, but the slam of the door startles me, and I drop it. The tears are still streaking down my face, It all feels so much heavier now, It’s even more of a reason to end this all.

I can barely make out the silhouette of Shuuichi Saihara, running toward me.

At this point I’m sobbing, images flashing through my mind from every moment of my life, and I feel sick. Saihara’s there trying to talk to me but I can’t hear him and I’m trying to hide. It’s such a big weakness and now he knows.

Get out, get out, get out get out get out.

I’m paralysed, and soon he’s holding me and-

Get out, get out, get out get out get out.

My brain can barely comprehend and all I can feel are the sin seeping through my veins and-

Get out, get out, get out get out get out.

Get out, get out, get out get out get out.

G E T O U T.

And as my vision starts to fade I feel the blood sticking to my skin, and I realise Saihara clinging on to me as if he wants me to live.

“I’m sorry- “

“it’s okay, it’s okay I-“the anxiety in Saishuu’s voice is worrying but he’s still with me. I can’t hear all that he’s saying, but I don’t allow myself optimism.

I’m just a stupid idiot to him aren’t I.

“h-hold on please-“

“p l e a s e -“

“KAITO!”

And for Kaito Momota, the words stop flying out of his mouth, and I don't know why but it hurts.


End file.
